Crimson Whispers
by Laraqua
Summary: Two fourteen-year-old joyriders stumble across the village in a desperate bid to escape the police.


She lurched from her car towards the edge of the road, grunting as her left foot twisted painfully to the right. The men in the pick-up truck behind her grunted as they got out, carrying torches and pistols. Her boyfriend clutched at her arm as they struggled into the thick mass of undergrowth, hoping to lose the blue uniforms behind. It was dark and the heavy canopy of trees did nothing to decrease the shadow. The men rushed after them, their heavier, larger bodies, crashing through the vegetation.  
  
Kameko fought the urge to look back over her shoulder to see if they were really as close behind her as she imagined. There was no point in verifying it. She needed to focus on pressing through gaps, turning her slim body sideways to pass between gaps. Poor Akiyama kept crying out as roots caught at his feet, branches slapping at his face, one hand on her shoulder. If they somehow became separated, he wouldn't be able to call to her nor hear her calls. A deaf mute gripping on to the last vestiges of hope that had been left to him.  
  
Finally some shrub or stone or root got the better of him and he fell. Somehow he managed to stay silent as his weight fell onto her, dragging her down. Not uttering a word. Somehow she managed to do the same. They fell together, a lump of flesh, their momentum forcing them into a roll that carried them to the bottom of a hill. There they lay, panting, staring up at the flickering lights as the police looked around for them.  
  
Just a couple of fourteen-year-old joyriders. They would soon be forgotten. The sad thing was she wasn't frightened of the police or the youth court. It was going home that scared her. She would prefer the alien forests to that and knew Akiyama felt the same. Finally, after long minutes crept past and her leg had long since fallen asleep, she slowly rose.  
  
Akiyama signed something but it was too hard to see clearly. She signaled for him to repeat, holding his hands up directly before her eyes and making each motion slow enough to make out.  
  
"Are They Gone Now?" Akiyama signed.  
  
"I Can't Hear Them," Kameko signed.  
  
He nodded briefly and sat up. There was a stiffness to his jaw, to his spine, that showed how very angry he was with her. She didn't feel like arguing. They had to take that car. It could have been far worse. Her parents didn't like him. They didn't particularly like her, either, and had relished the idea of taking him away from her. While not particularly violent physically, they preferred submission and isolation in their daughter rather than the spark of home he had given her. She could almost hear her elder sister's taunts now. She shook them from her head and looked around.  
  
If there was a moon, if there were stars, some guiding light to glisten over a city, some way to find direction, it was concealed above the interlaced web of foliage that rose high above them. This was to be their refuge now, for a little while, at least. She cursed the pink vest and slightly stained beige skirt. At least it reached her knees. That was something at least.  
  
"Come," she said and got to her feet. She tried climbing the hill but it wasn't just steep, it was also covered in loose stones that sent her skidding back to the bottom. Akiyama just watched her as she attempted the climb again and again. She knew he was laughing at her, silently, his eyes glittering in the darkness. The twelfth time she skidded back down, she picked up a pebble and threw it at him. "What Do You Think We Should Do Then?"  
  
He shrugged and pointed to a point about a dozen feet away where the remains of a path brushed against the side of the slope. Slapping him hard across the shoulder, she stalked off towards the path. He lunged after her, grasping her hand. For a moment she considered shaking off his hand but thought better of it. At the very least, it was warm.  
  
The path went along its way for quite some time, narrowed at points by weeds and vegetation. It was serene in the forest. The silence was broken only by their footsteps and her own heavy breathing. Her chest felt a little tight and she patted her vest pocket, revealed to find that her puffer was still there, protected by the fluorescent pink zipper she had always found so ugly. Now she was grateful to it.  
  
Here we are, two cripples, walking along a path to goodness knows where. For all she knew they were headed the wrong way. Dirt paths such as these normally started near town and ended near some fishing spot or other. Maybe even a deserted house. At least it might be warm in there although lighting a fire might not be such a good idea.  
  
Staring up at the canopy above, she let Akiyama take the lead, drifting off into a daydream of a fabulous life as a heavy metal star with Akiyama fawning over her. Aha, finally he wouldn't tease her for her impatience or rile her over the smallest things just to have a laugh. He would worship her in her studded leather cat suit and odd face paint that would be her trademarks. Then it would be her scorning him for one reason or other. Too busy to hang out or talk. Just tossing him scraps of time, if she so felt like it. Hell, she probably wouldn't even keep him on. He was a very tiresome boyfriend and lately it seemed she couldn't stop thinking up scenarios for breaking up with him.  
  
If it wasn't for their plans to leave town, she would have done it weeks ago. As it was, she wanted the peace of going somewhere where no one knew her name. Even if that peace were an illusion, it'd be nice for a little while. Not like there weren't plenty of illusions she could find. Letting Akiyama hold her hand was just one such illusion.  
  
Something crunched underfoot, breaking her out of her daydreams. She stopped and looked down, raising her offending foot. A brightly colored object fluttered underneath it. It looked like shining red paper but when she leaned down for a closer inspection, she saw it was the broken remains of a butterfly. She tilted her head to one side and reached down to touch it. The butterfly flopped about until its wings appeared to be in the right place, then took flight. She stepped back as it flew towards her nose, a healthy specimen of crimson light once more. Akiyama squeezed her hand as it took off towards the canopy. She watched it as it almost seemed to dance.  
  
"Akiyama?" she said out loud, lowering her eyes from the butterfly.  
  
He was no longer there. Yet she could still feel his warm smooth skin against her own hand. Looking down she saw the obvious. He wasn't holding onto it anymore. The sensation of him clasping her hand faded. The path went on for a few dozen feet before turning. It had only been a few seconds between the time he had squeezed her hand and the time she had noticed him gone.  
  
"Akiyama? Where are you?" she called again, realising the futility of her words. The sound itself only made her feel more isolated as she ran along the path, looking for him. Why hadn't she stopped when she had stopped? Unless he had let go of her hand when the butterfly had come. Then he wouldn't have known she wasn't behind him unless he looked around. It wasn't as though he could tell she was following through the sound of her footsteps.  
  
"Must stop daydreaming, makes me imagine things, even touch," she said and laughed a little. Then she slowed to a walk as her chest got that familiar tightness it did. Stress, cold, running. No wonder she felt on the verge of an attack. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. It wouldn't be long before Akiyama looked behind himself and realised she wasn't there so he would soon start hurrying back towards her. It wasn't as though he'd leave the path, at any rate, so she'd find him in the end.  
  
She just hoped the path didn't branch off at any point. She didn't feel like sitting down in this strange place. She checked her other vest pockets for something to eat. Sometimes she hid lollies in there, butter menthols, barley sugars. Not today, of course. Everything had been left behind in the car. Her stomach rumbled painfully.  
  
Finally, the path met another, much wider one. Striding out onto the bigger one, more a small unpaved road than a path, she could see a large house. None of the lights were on which was a worry. She hated people who were asleep by nine. At least, she thought it would be around nine o'clock. There was no point checking her watch. It was far too dark to see. 


End file.
